


Friday Nights

by pearl_o



Category: Men With Brooms (2002)
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-31
Updated: 2005-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cutter had been a lot of fun tonight, for the first time in months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to brooklinegirl.

Amy lay back on the blanket, tucking her hands together underneath her neck. The guys were being loud and rowdy, as usual; it seemed like a good three-quarters of the nights they came down here _somebody_ end up wrestling, or punching, or throwing junk at somebody else. Tonight Eddie and Bucyk were grappling together somewhere down the beach. Amy could hear Lennox yelling from here, urging them on and playing them off of each other.

They were really like little kids. It wasn't hard to ignore them, though. Amy had lost track of how many beers she'd had so far, and it was a gorgeous night, so pretty it was almost ridiculous. She stared up dreamily at the glittering stars and stretched out her legs.

When she shifted her weight, she could feel her baggy sweater just brushing against the bandage underneath. Mom and Dad and Julie hadn't seen the tattoo yet -- Amy figured it would be a long time before they _needed_ to know -- but it was weirdly comforting just knowing it was there. It made Amy smile, just thinking about it.

"Hey, Foley, think fast."

Amy sat up quickly and reached out to catch the can of beer before it rolled away into the sand. "Your aim sucks."

"You looked like you could use another one," Cutter said. He was standing a couple feet away, one hand in his pocket, the other in his own hair.

Amy popped open the can and took a long swig, swallowing and swallowing. "Christopher Cutter," she said thoughtfully, setting the can down next to her, "I will love you till the day I die."

Cutter laughed. "You'd say that to anyone who got you boozed up enough."

"That's true. You just happen to be the lucky man." She grinned, and patted the blanket beside her. "Come on."

Cutter only hesitated a second before he came over and sat beside her; Amy scooted over a couple inches so there was room for both of them.

"My aim doesn't suck, you know," said Cutter.

"Oh, you could have fooled me," Amy said. It was getting chilly out, so she wrapped her arms around herself to hug herself tight. She glanced at Cutter out of the corner of her eye. "Or, what, were you _aiming_ for the middle of nowhere? Because you were nowhere near me."

"Screw you," Cutter said, laughing, "I'd like to see _you_ do better."

"Yeah? Just give me a chance," said Amy. She stretched out her foot and kicked Cutter's calf. Cutter kicked back, hitting her knee. "Hey, you're still wearing shoes, asshole! I'm barefoot."

"It'll teach you not to mess with me." Cutter leaned back, supporting himself with his arms and gazing out to the lake. Amy brought her knees up and tucked them underneath her chin, watching him underneath her eyelashes. Cutter had been a lot of fun tonight, for the first time in _months_, really, ever since he had that fight with his dad and moved out, or maybe even longer. Lately he'd been so stiff, all weird and obnoxious. Even the last couple of Fridays drinking together like this, he'd been impossible, silent and moody and getting deeper and deeper hidden inside himself. It was nice to see the old Cutter again.

Cutter said, "Look, Amy--"

"Come _on_, you fucking pussies!" Lennox's booming voice drifted across the beach. Amy pressed her forehead against her knees to keep from cracking up.

"Morons," she heard Cutter mutter and then, "Hey, look at me, all right?"

Amy looked up and stopped smiling at the look on Cutter's face. Jesus Christ, was that Cutter looking serious -- looking _nervous_? He was biting his lip, and fooling around with his coat.

"Yeah, what is it?" Amy said.

"Can you -- here, look at this," said Cutter, and he dumped something small and rectangular onto the blanket between them.

Cutter looked away while she picked it up. It was a ring box. When she opened it up, there was a tiny gold band with a diamond right in the center.

"Mother_fuck_!" said Amy. "Cutter, you _prick_."

Cutter looked back over at her -- there was a smile fighting at the corner of his mouth now. "So, what. You think she'll like it?"

"Fuck you, Cutter, she's going to have a fucking coronary. She's not going to talk about anything else for years. Do you know how many times I'm going to have to coo over this ugly piece of junk?" Amy snapped the box shut and threw it over at him. It bounced off Cutter's shoulder and down to the blanket again.

Cutter barked a laugh up out to the sky.

"All I'm saying," said Amy, shaking her head, "is you better be pretty damn sure before you give that thing to her. This isn't like standing her up at the prom, Cutter. You mess this up and she'll cut off your balls."

"Screw you, I'm not going to mess this up," Cutter said. He picked the ring back up and hid it back away in his clothes. "I don't know, I figure we wait a while, maybe she graduates from college first. What do you think?"

Amy picked up her beer again, pressing it between her palms. "What does it matter what _I_ think?" she said, looking at her hands. "I'm not the one getting married."

"Yeah," said Cutter, "but I don't know, I thought -- jesus, Amy, think about it, we're gonna be brother and sister in a year or two. Family."

Cutter let out another amused noise, and Amy stared over at him. His hair looked like shit. He had a giant bruise on his face from where Lennox had hit him opening the car door earlier in the day (_accidentally_, or so Lennox claimed). His jeans and t-shirt hadn't been washed recently, and were wrinkled beyond belief. He was grinning goofily enough that even if Amy hadn't been right here with him while he got shitfaced, she would have known there was no way he was sober.

He was still the most disgustingly handsome man Amy had ever seen.

"My dad's going to kick your ass," Amy said suddenly.

"Your dad loves me," Cutter said. He lay down on his back and closed his eyes.

"My dad loves all four of you like sons. You're still going to get your asses kicked tomorrow from here to next week," said Amy. "Imagine. I'll be curled up in bed, relaxing, sleeping, enjoying my Saturday morning however the hell I want, and he's going to have you guys on the rink for five a.m. practice. Hope you enjoy drills hungover."

Cutter snorted and said in a superior voice, "_That_ is exactly why you don't have what it takes to be a world class curler."

Amy scowled at her beer. "Fuck you, Cutter."

"With pleasure," Cutter said without opening his eyes.

Amy finished the rest of her can with one swallow, set it next to her, and lay back down beside Cutter. She folded her hands in the middle of her chest and stared up back at the stars again, listening to Cutter's quiet breaths, Lennox's obscene cries, and Eddie and Bucyk's pathetic-sounding struggles, and thinking about nothing at all.


End file.
